The Time of Her Life

by Jeanie London

  They emerged in the front lobby, walking side by side. Security served as nighttime reception and Jay told the man at the desk, “Pete’s on tonight, if you need anything.”

  Then they passed through the open doorway, where two furry golden beasts bounded at her, tails wagging, yelping and barking a friendly greeting.

  “Hello, guys,” Susanna said in her dog-friendly squeaky voice as they circled her legs, clearly wanting attention. She extended a hand, waited to see how it was received.

  The dogs shuffled nearer, half sitting, half standing, vying to get closer to her like two almost-identical twins elbowing each other out of the way. With a laugh, she knelt and gave each a hand, ruffling their chests in a place most dogs loved to be petted, laughing as they preened beneath the attention. “That feels good, guys, doesn’t it? So who are you? You’re so friendly.”

  One sharp whistle answered her question. The barking stopped and the dogs bounded toward Jay. But only for an instant before they shot past him toward the facility entrance.

  Susanna watched with amusement as Jay rolled his eyes and whistled again, bringing the dogs to a halt in the entrance and the sliding doors that opened drunkenly.

  “Come on, you two,” Jay commanded “We’re not going in tonight. It’s too late. You can visit your buddies another day.”

  Susanna hadn’t come across any other dogs in the facility and assumed Jay referred to the staff or the residents. Greywacke Lodge had been affiliated with an organization that trained dogs specifically for senior visits, and most residents loved the friendly canines. Judging by the way these two dogs kept glancing at the entrance, looking disappointed if possible, Susanna suspected they enjoyed visits, too.

  “Boys, sit,” Jay instructed. “Try to make a good first impression for once.”

  Susanna couldn’t imagine these two making any other. They were obviously well trained. “Golden retrievers?”

  “Yep. Their names are Butters and Gatsby.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet. Butters is younger?”

  Jay narrowed a disapproving gaze at the dog that could barely sit still. “How can you tell? His lack of manners?”

  True, Butters’s hind end kept popping up, tail thumping wildly before he’d remember he was supposed to be sitting.

  “My fault entirely,” Susanna admitted. “How is he supposed to behave when I’m doing the squeaky voice?”

  “Yeah, well, he should.” Jay scowled at the dog who’d sidled up against her to be petted again. “They like you.”

  She ruffled the soft fur around Butters’s neck. “They’re so friendly, I’m guessing they like everyone.”

  “Okay, you like them.”

  “I do. My kids had Hershel while they were growing up. He was a golden and Akita mix.”

  “Had?”

  “Wonderful quality of life until he was fifteen. We still miss him.”

  Jay nodded, but she could tell he approved. Something in the twinkle of his deep-green eyes. There didn’t seem to be any artifice with this man, Susanna realized. Professionalism didn’t distance him from saying how he felt or force him to only express the politically correct response.

  Yet somehow he was very professional. She’d witnessed that firsthand. A natural leader.

  Susanna found that very different, very refreshing from the often tentative diplomacy of corporate-speak.

  Jay tossed his jacket over his shoulder. “You ready to head home, boys?”

  Both dogs were on their feet instantly, glancing at her as if excited for the company.

  “Enjoy your walk. I hope you all have a good night.” Somehow in the artificial light of the lamp, Jay no longer looked like the administrator and owner of The Arbors, but simply a man who’d worked a long day.

  “It was a good second day, Susanna. Enjoy your night.” Then he herded the dogs away and headed toward the slope.

  Susanna was still watching as they passed beyond the glow of the parking lot lights and vanished into the darkness, warmth growing inside her because of his approval.

  * * *

  “TWO DAYS, Suze?” Karan Steinberg said incredulously over the phone. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night.”

  “I’m so sorry. We didn’t leave work until late, and by the time Jay helped me get my bags to the house and I got everything organized, I passed out.”

  “Well, forgiven, then. But only if you slept all night. Did you? Don’t lie to me.”

  “I would never lie. I can’t believe you’d suggest—”

  “I’ll take that to mean no, you didn’t.” Karan’s sigh filtered over the phone. “Suze, what am I going to do with you?”

  Susanna leaned back in the chair, a caned oak rocker that was one of a set gracing the gallery in front of her new home, the most picturesque cottage she had ever seen. Though it was dark, the moon illuminated the surrounding forest, and the quiet night sounds reminded her of the sunroom in the home she’d left in New York.

  The evenings had once been a special time for her and Skip. After long, busy days. After bedtime stories and tucking in the kids, Susanna would brew a pot of coffee and she and Skip would sit in the sunroom and share the events of their day. For a blissful few moments, they reconnected as a couple to the peaceful night sounds of the conservation lot that bordered their backyard.

  “Don’t worry, Karan,” Susanna said, knowing her friend would continue to do precisely that. “I’ll settle down once I get comfortable here. There’s been a lot of travel and a lot of change. Nerves are completely normal.”

  “You’re holding up?” Karan asked. “All’s well?”

  “So far, so good. I’ve been going nonstop all day at the facility. And I’m here, if not unpacked. I’ll get there when I get there.”

  “But you’re happy with the arrangement?”

  “I was so relieved when I saw this place I got weepy. Jay must think I’m the biggest idiot.”

  “Who’s Jay?” Karan asked.

  Karan zeroed in on what she considered most important. Men would always top that list. That had been the way it was in middle school. That was the way it was in middle age.

  Not that almost forty was exactly middle age. Not if Susanna planned to live to be a hundred, anyway.

  “Jay Canady, owner and property administrator of The Arbors.”

  “The man you’ve got to convince to sell the property.”

  “One and the same.” A man with a charming smile and melodic voice.

  “What’s he like? Helpful, I hope.”

  “Very, I’m happy to report. Not really what I expected.”

  “How so?”

  Susanna paused before answering. “He wants the acquisition to happen, but on his terms. I haven’t figured out much more than that yet. I’m too busy getting acclimated.”

  “Do you think you’re going to like the job? It’s a lot different than what you’d been doing.”

  A lot more responsibility. Karan was probably right to worry especially because she knew everything involved in making this move—all the worries, all the uncertainty, all the indecision.

  She also understood how much of Susanna’s peace of mind rode on things falling into place to reassure her that relocating her family had been the right choice. Karan knew everything because they were BFFs, as Brooke always called them.

  Best friends forever.

  This would be the first time since middle school they’d lived so far apart. Of course,
Karan traveled a lot, not to mention splitting home base between residences in the Catskills, Manhattan and on the Connecticut shore, but not even college or marriage—marriages in Karan’s case—had placed as much distance between them as this job.

  “I think this place is what I need right now. The learning curve will distract me, so I won’t miss the kids so much.”

  “As long as it doesn’t keep you too distracted. You need to get a life, Suze. It’s time. Past time, to be honest.”

  “I know. I know.” But knowing and doing were two different things, Susanna had discovered. Between her kids growing up and moving away and leaving New York behind herself, she felt as if the grieving process had started all over again. Maybe not as overwhelming as it had been in the months after Skip’s death, but she felt just as isolated, alone.

  Rising, she headed inside, nudged the door shut behind her, suddenly needing light and walls around her. “I took a big step by taking this job.”

  “You did,” Karan acknowledged.

  Setting the cup on the coffee table, Susanna glanced at a photo she’d placed in the living room. The only unpacking she’d done aside from hanging up her suits had been to place a photo in every room, so wherever she turned she’d see the face of someone she loved.

  Karan and her husband Charles’s wedding photo was in the dining room. Brooke’s and Brandon’s smiling faces graced several rooms. In this photo they sat in front of last year’s Christmas tree. Their last Christmas in their home.

  Ugh. “It’s another world around here.” Susanna switched gears to bridge the distance she suddenly felt from her old life. “You will not believe my new place. Totally Gone with the Wind, I swear.”

  “Tara or the slave quarters? You keep saying guest cottage. It sounds small.”

  “Don’t start.” She sank onto the sofa, into soft cushions. Definitely down-filled. Something she’d never have been able to indulge in when the kids had been young. A sofa like this might have lasted two hours during the pillow fights or fort-makings at one of Brandon’s slumber parties.

  “There are flowers everywhere. The place is called The Arbors for good reason. Walter said it’ll be even more beautiful when everything’s in spring bloom. I can’t even imagine. The place is already heaven everywhere I look.”

  “I know you love that, Ms. Green Thumb. And here you were worried about leaving your conservation lot. Who’s Walter?”

  “The property CFO.”

  “He’ll be staying with you after the transition?”

  “Walter and everyone else on the payroll. Jay has negotiated provisions for all the personnel. I won’t be making any changes without putting up a fight.”

  “Then let’s hope you like everyone. Particularly Walter, since he’s doing your old job. You’re a tough act to follow.”

  Susanna envisioned the white-haired gentleman with the deep drawl. “He’s been on the payroll for longer than I’ve been alive. He’s got things under control.”

  “Sounds like your first few days are going well.”

  “Thank God. At first glance, everyone appears capable and efficient. They’ve definitely been friendly. Lots of real Southern charm around here.”

  “Everyone is probably as worried about keeping their jobs as you are, Suze. Remember that. Once Northstar starts cutting the checks, those loyalties will make the transition, too.”

  “Fingers crossed. But I am encouraged. With the facility and the people.”

  “And the living arrangements.”

  “Thankfully.” Not that decor and design mattered all that much. Unless the place had been a trailer on cinder blocks, Susanna was moving in because the price was right.

  Free housing was part of her package. Gerald had convinced Northstar she should be on the property to accommodate a staff used to constant access to Jay. And Jay had needed to assume some financial responsibility to offset expenses in the event he chose not to sign in the end. This was one of the perks that didn’t cost him.

  But Susanna never shared financial worries with Karan if she could help it. Her BFF had grown up in a much loftier tax bracket. As a result she was casual with money in a way that only came from never having to worry about whether or not there’d be enough.

  “Explain to me how you’re going to be homeless when I own all these houses?” Karan had said in some variation more than once. “Take the kids and live in the lake house or the beach house or go to Manhattan. Brooke loves it there.”

  For Karan the move would be that simple. She had such a giving heart. Ironically, she also had no clue how generous she was, which was one of the very reasons Susanna adored her.

  “Define encouraged,” Karan said. “Does that translate to mean you’ll get used to living in the guest cottage?”

  “This place is perfect for me. I’m one person.”

  “Not if you want me to visit. Or your kids.”

  “Brooke can sleep with me and Brandon can bunk in the office. You know we’re big on slumber parties. For you and Charles, there’s a Hilton on the other side of the UNC campus. I already checked.”

  “Good. How big is Jay’s place?”

  “Think Tara in Gone with the Wind.”

  Silence.

  “What?” Susanna asked.

  “Well, I’m not sure how I feel about a man who lives in a plantation and leaves you in the slave quarters. He couldn’t clear out a wing? He is selling the place and moving, right?”

  “Jay didn’t put me anywhere. Northstar made the arrangements.”

  “What are they doing with the plantation?”

  “One of my objectives is to make recommendations. Northstar is looking at the potential for a rehab facility or maybe adding a facility that’s not specifically Alzheimer’s related. I haven’t seen the place in person yet, but it’s old, so renovating to code could be expensive. I’ll have to see.”

  A task for another day. She could tackle only one thing at a time without feeling overwhelmed. She was already bolting upright in bed hours before the alarm rang.

  “Well, you’ve got time,” Karan said generously. “Brooke won’t graduate until next year. I’d be surprised if she didn’t decide to settle near you.”

  “If the acquisition goes as planned, I’ll know whether or not I want to buy something. If Brooke likes it in Charlotte, we’ll set up a new home base.”

  “And you can get a life again. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life alone, do you?”

  “No, please.” She exhaled a long breath. “Not the dating speech. I’m too fragile for that right now.”

  “No mercy. You’re too young to wait around until Brooke or Brandon make you a grandmother. You need to get out and have some fun. I realize it’s been a while for you, but there’s more to life than just working and taking care of everyone. I know you had all your plans laid out, but things have changed. You need a new plan.”

  Susanna had always been the focused one, the one who’d known what she wanted. Karan was worried. And right. Susanna did need to figure out how to move on with her life.

  And she would. But until the kids were on their own, finances took precedence. Meeting her family’s needs was top priority, which meant she had to do everything in her power to insure that Northstar acquired The Arbors. And that meant when she wasn’t in the facility learning how to be a property administrator, she was at home boning up on Alzheimer’s care.

  Was she hiding from moving on with life? Probably. Di
d Karan know she was hiding? Probably.

  But there were only so many hours in the day. “I’ll figure things out, Karan. One step at a time, and you’ll help me. Just like you always do.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JAY HAD VISITED THE COTTAGE every night since Susanna had arrived a week ago. First night he’d helped her unpack her suitcases and shown her around. Second night had been a blown electrical breaker. Third night was a problem with the washing machine, which hadn’t been used since Walter’s niece had needed a place to stay during a divorce.

  Repairs were the nature of old houses, and old houses were Jay’s life. While the facility and guest cottage didn’t come close to touching the age of the main house, they weren’t new by anyone’s estimation. In fact, when he figured out where he wanted to put down roots, he’d build a brand-new place so he wouldn’t have to worry about anything going wrong for a while. And when something eventually needed repairing, he could to run to any Home Depot to pick up standard-size parts. Better yet, he’d call a repairman.

  But that sweet plan was still months away. With any luck he’d fix everything that needed fixing before signing the final papers, so Susanna could get a few repair-free months. Then the grief would belong to Northstar.

  The dogs had accompanied Jay on each of his visits, and tonight was no different. They ran beside the golf cart as he steered into the yard then they bolted for the door.

  Jay whistled, but the dogs ignored him, nails clattering on the wood as they clambered up the porch steps. Following, he found the door ajar and hoped Susanna had left it open; otherwise, he’d be back again tomorrow night to replace the lock.

  “Butters, Gatsby,” he called through the doorway, hoping the beasts hadn’t trashed the place.

  That familiar high-pitched greeting from the back of the house sparked another round of barking. Jay stood in the threshold, undecided about whether to wait for an invitation. He didn’t want to be as rude as his dogs, so he remained outside, listening to the commotion within.